Carrot Field: Carrot Field, #1

By Vincent Asaro

Enter a world of courageous Animals, uncommon heroes and epic battles! The young Rabbit, Sebastian Perriwinkle, is swept off on a quest - along with the enigmatic Badger, Professor Plotonicus and the mystical Fox, Brand Redtail, to find the legendary Human race! Together they unravel the mystery of an ancient war and confront the ultimate force of destruction - the Lord Ouroboros.

 

Mind-bending science-fiction and epic fantasy meet in CARROT FIELD! If you love Frank Herbert's DUNE and J.R.R. Tolkien's LORD of the RINGS, you will love Carrot Field. 

 

"Rich with the details of an intricately conceived world, Carrot Field stands apart." Simon West Bulford (The Beasts of Upton Puddle)

• Language: English
• Publisher: MythoLogos Publishing
• Release date: Dec 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201891886

Vincent Asaro

Vincent Asaro is the author of Carrot Field and Carrot Field: The Distant Land. He produces content about Mythology and Free Software. Look for Mythologos on Odysee.com for more information!

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

SEBASTIAN

THIS IS THE STORY OF CARROT FIELD and of the war of darkness, and of Sebastian Perriwinkle, a Rabbit who made his home in Tumton Hollow, a quiet countryside in the west of Carrot Field. There he shared a house with his old uncle, Richard. Their house was called Lazy Manor and they lived very happy lives there.

In those days, Sebastian was at work on a history of his family. He titled it, Chronicle of The Perriwinkles: From the Time of Legend to The Present Day. The Perriwinkles, ‘though never rich, were an adventurous clan, and had somehow managed to be present at most of the great historical events in the history of Carrot Field. Sebastian’s own father, Alexander, had died fighting in the Long War, the last great conflict to involve Carrot Field, shortly before Sebastian was born. Sebastian often daydreamed about Alexander and what he had been like; he wished, more than anything else in the world, that he could have known his father. 

But the writing of his family history made Sebastian yearn after a different sort of life.  The Rabbit wondered: What will my adventure be? When will I have the chance to prove myself a true Perriwinkle? He knew that such things did not happen in Tumton Hollow. Beyond that, he could not imagine what form his opportunity to join the pantheon of Perriwinkles might take, or when it would arrive.

Lazy Manor was an old house, situated on acres of property on the outskirts of the town, also named Tumton Hollow. The house was filled with artifacts of the Perriwinkle family history: swords and shields, old flint rifles and ivory handled pistols, pieces of armor and antique clothes, portraits and busts, filing cabinets bursting with documents, heirlooms and bric-a-brac unlimited. It was more a museum than a home, Richard often remarked.

Among those artifacts, on the mantle in the library, where Sebastian did his writing at an old roll-top desk, the Jade Horn was displayed. According to family legend, the horn was crafted in the Outlands, before Animals ever came to dwell in Carrot Field. It was only a story, Sebastian knew that; and yet, it fired his imagination.

The hour arrived when Sebastian wrote the last word in the last sentence at the end of the last paragraph on the last page of his book. The day was blustery and dark continents of cloud raced across the sky. It was late in the afternoon and he was alone. The old cabinet clock in the hallway tick-tocked, tick-tocked. Sebastian was suddenly  restless. He jumped out of his chair and all but ran out of the house, his scarf and coat forgotten on their pegs beside the door. 

It was the end of summer. The sweet hay smell of new mown grass day by day gave way to the deep earthy aromas of Autumn-time; ripe fruit blown from the bough and left to rot beside sandy lanes, the sugar-char smell of burning leaves borne on heavy blue clouds of smoke blown from bonfires dotting the countryside; and the redolence of muddy water, as rainfall caused the running streams to rush their tangled banks, carrying away on their brown backs shining flecks of pale gold, newly fallen leaves.

The white Rabbit headed up West Apple Lane, breathing deep the cool fresh air of the season. It was good to be outside after working on the book all day. He walked past the Church of Saint Ave the Merciful. There stood the tall statues of the Human Saints, Ave and Jarev, hands joined (as they were always depicted), all beneficence, wisdom, and forgiveness. He thought of his boyhood, when he had actually believed that Humans were real, and could carry prayers to Arden, creator of the universe, in his distant heaven. Sebastian laughed quietly at the notion.

Humans! He thought, and as Richard had taught him—Nonsense and fairy tales! But there was something nice about the old church, and Sebastian would not have liked to see it knocked down.

The Rabbit took his pipe from the pocket of his tweed jacket but it was far too windy to keep a match lit, so he chewed the stem until he reached the Gold Coin Inn, a squat old cottage with a thatch roof. Smoke poured from the chimney and Sebastian sniffed the smell of food: vegetable stew, potato pie, freshly baked black bread, and cinnamon apple cakes.

Sebastian ducked in out of the wind. The interior of the inn was all dark-stained wood and heavy stone. A few Rabbits stood around the roaring hearth fire, smoking pipes and talking. Among them was Richard.

The chronicle is finished, Sebastian announced.

A cause for celebration! his uncle replied.

Sebastian and Richard sat down at a small table near the fire, drinking ale and eating their suppers, talking about the Perriwinkle family chronicle and the possibility of publication. When all the food was eaten and the last of the ale drained from their mugs, they lit their pipes and leaned back in their chairs.

Listen to that wind! Richard said.

By that time it was dark outside; it had started to rain.

Later, they walked home together in the dark, aided only by patches of moonlight that peeked through the fast moving clouds. But they knew the way well and could have walked it blindfolded in a snowstorm, if they’d ever had need to.

When they reached the house, the wind was blowing so strongly that Sebastian and Richard together had to push and push to get the door shut again; it was as if the wind, or something in back of the wind, wanted to follow them inside, and would not be refused.

The hour was very late when Sebastian climbed yawning into his bed. He snugged himself deep under the warm blankets and dreamed that night of Foxes; Wild Animals who lived beyond the reach of civilization, in the Wild Lands. He had never seen a Fox before, few Carrotonians had. But his dreams were filled with their keen dark eyes and flashing tails. He dreamed and dreamed of Foxes; until he was startled out of his sleep by a loud—

CHAPTER TWO

THE MYSTERIOUS

PROFESSOR PLOTONICUS

CRASH!   SEBASTIAN FELL RIGHT OUT OF HIS BED. Sunlight flooded his room. He rubbed his eyes. The most incredible noise was coming from the garden. The Rabbit threw on his dressing gown and ran barefoot downstairs and out of the house, into the garden.

Sebastian went ‘round the house and saw the yard covered in billowing blue silk. An Animal had crashed a hot air balloon in his garden! Right in front of him, crushing his roses, was the large wicker carriage, and next to it, lying prone on its back, there was a Badger.

My leg! the Badger bellowed. I am wounded! My leg!

His voice was big and bellicose, his speech interjected with moans of pain.

Sebastian was speechless.

Richard came behind him, carrying his old army revolver.

"What in the world is going on here?" he demanded.

I have had a bad landing! the Badger shouted, trying to sit up. A crash, in fact. And if you fine Animals go on standing there gawping instead of helping me up, I shall have to live permanently in your garden!

Richard said, I think I’ll summon the Constable.

The Badger replied, "Don’t be such a fool, Richard Perriwinkle!"

Nephew and uncle traded glances, and then they ran over to the Badger.

Who are you? Sebastian asked.

The Badger laughed; a delirious cacophony that could no doubt be heard three counties over. He managed to sit upright and caressed his right ankle.

Richard’s eyes were wide. He spoke in an awed voice, ...Plotonicus!

In the flesh! the Badger said, laughing again. Professor Hercule Xavier Plotonicus, to be precise. And now that I have been formally introduced, would you be so kind as to help me up off this cold ground?

Come on, lad! Richard said, and they hoisted up the Badger, which was no easy task, the Professor being as wide as he was tall, and much of both.

They went inside, and the Professor was seated at the breakfast table while Richard went to fetch gauze and plaster. Sebastian filled a basin with boiling water. When they returned, the Badger was puffing an enormous briar pipe, with a bowl shaped like a horse’s head. They went to work on his ankle.

Sebastian had a good look at the Badger as he helped Richard. The Professor’s garb was a hodgepodge of out-of-date clothes and what looked like castoffs: a prune colored crushed velvet jacket, bright yellow silk neckerchief, mustard-yellow shirt tucked into brown corduroy pants, which sagged like potato sacks around his legs, not quite reaching his ankles, under which were the tops of sunken, mismatched socks (one polka-dotted, the other striped) and shoes all but fallen apart.

Richard said, Well, there’s nothing broken; only a sprain, I suppose.

Good to see you have forgotten none of your military training, the Badger said. And this is young Sebastian Perriwinkle, I take it?

I don’t believe we’ve met, Sebastian said, offering a paw.

We have, the Badger said, accepting it, but you were at the time preoccupied with your rattle and mobile, I’m afraid.

Sebastian laughed. I’ve grown since then!

So I see, the Badger said, and now: my breakfast, if you please!

And from that moment forward, Plotonicus installed himself as master of the house. There was no resisting him. He took up residence in the upstairs spare bedroom and from his bed he commanded: what was to be done and when, and it was done. Sebastian wondered at the Badger’s sheer willpower, which seemed to run from a reservoir of infinite depth. The upstairs was filled with his pipe smoke, the whole house with his voice; he was omnipresent.

The Professor’s breakfast was to be served at a quarter to eight, sharp: two soft boiled eggs, three rashers of bacon, two sausages, six slices of toast, and tea (no milk, no sugar). His luncheon and dinner menu were equally well defined. His baths were to be drawn at a certain temperature three times a day, twice for bathing and once to soak his sore ankle. And if he was at work in his room (as he often was), he was not to be disturbed. Plotonicus also demanded the newspaper every morning.

The Badger huffed and growled at the news, which was mostly about the doings of the new Prime Minister, a Cat named Phineas Pharaoh, who was leading a new radical, worker-friendly government.

I see some things have changed for the worse since I’ve been away, the Badger said, I had my disagreements with the old government but this new set, they’re all high-sounding promises and mirror tricks, it seems to me.

Phineas Pharaoh? He’s a good sort, Sebastian said defensively.

Why do you say that? the Badger snapped.

I went to boarding school with Pharaoh, Sebastian told him, but I was in my first year and he was in his last. We met again at university and became friends. Whenever his campaign brought him to Tumton Hollow he would visit me. He’s probably the best thing to ever happen to government. And he’s offered me a job, any time I want it. Now that I’ve finished the family chronicle, I’m thinking of accepting.

What sort of job?

Oh, he’s building a kind of research complex, farther out in West Field. Where political leaders can gather and work things out, a think-tank; and where scientific research can be done, with all of the most up-to-date equipment.

Sounds pure rubbish! the Badger said.

Well...he’s all for worker’s unions and reform...his outlook is liberal...

The Badger roared and roared with laughter.

Your liberal PM says here, the Professor pointed to the paper, "that there will certainly not be another war while he is Prime Minister. Take that as a promise that there will be one! He’s probably planning it already."

By war, Plotonicus meant war with Vorland, the country south of The Water, where the Boars had their domain. Theirs was a warlike society, steeped in old-world conventions, still ruled by the aristocracy. It was against the Vorlanders that the Long War had been fought.

The Badger also dropped hints about Sebastian’s father. But he would never elaborate. It was all very vague and elusive. When Sebastian pressed him he’d say:

All in good time, my lad! All in good time. Is my tea ready?

And he also seemed to think that he had been invited:

"Goodness gracious, one would think I had been unexpected!"

He’d say and—

"It’s almost as if you did not know I was coming to visit!"

All of this only served to further perplex Sebastian.

One evening, when they were in the sitting room warming themselves around the fire, the Badger told them stories from his life. In the flickering firelight, wreathed in pipe smoke, Plotonicus spoke of his travels in Carrot Field, and the ways of Wild Foxes, and how he’d come to live among them.

I was still young when I made my first journey north. And I traveled alone, with no more than old maps and stories to guide me. The Foxes found me, bumbling like a lost tourist through the wilds! At the time, I knew nothing of their ways. For all I knew, they were going to capture or kill me. They did not harm me then, and I was taken with them to their home, the place called Tod-Boro, where they’ve built the underground city, Neithan-Ham.

Underground? Sebastian blurted out. How savage! Animals haven’t lived in burrows underground since...since before the Migration!

Well, Foxes do, said Plotonicus, pleased at having captured Sebastian’s interest.

What happened to you in Tod-Boro? Sebastian asked eagerly.

Plotonicus relit his sputtering pipe and continued, "They took me with them, but not as a guest! I was kept a prisoner for three days in a bare cave. Fortunately, I’d studied Almas, which is their preferred tongue. I told them that I’d come to learn and study their ways, their history, and to bring their wisdom back with me, to civilization. In time, I was taken to stand before their tribal Elders. I pleaded my case as best I could, and was taken back to my burrow to await their answer. Those were the longest hours of my life."

What happened next? asked Sebastian, now fully intrigued by the Professor’s story.

I was freed! said the Badger, "And allowed almost unlimited movement among them. Those were my golden years! Each day was filled with some new discovery. And I was the first, the very first outside their people, to record any of it! They are a remarkable folk. I cannot tell you all I’ve seen, and learned, while living among them. You have to see it for yourself, Sebastian."

The Badger left the statement hanging in the air; and as if by sleight-of-hand, he produced a beat up old fiddle. After a stream of tentative bow strokes, Plotonicus started to play.

The Badger hummed wordlessly, then sang snatches of lyrics in Almas, the ancient language of Animals. Sebastian understood the words, he had studied Almas. The songs told of remote eras, of great wars no more than legend in Sebastian’s time; but the music seemed to him to speak of his own ancestors.

The fiddle music soared, careened, wept, spun all around them, like a strong breeze that throws a window open and sends everything in a room toppling. Then the words of Almas melted and dissolved into the language spoken by Sebastian. The Badger sang:

Many roads are calling, calling,

Many roads and many roads beside;

Many mountains begging to be crested,

Many rivers wanting to be forded,

Many cities shining golden on the way;

That is our path, the path our feet will follow,

Away from narrow streets

And out through doors of houses gray;

Into the green we go, into the wood, into the wild,

Beyond the farthest distance

Where the salt-jade sea lies open;

That is where we’ll travel,

When the many roads are calling.

Then it was over. Plotonicus packed away his fiddle, emptied his pipe, and went to bed. Sebastian could not sleep that night, he dreamed again of Foxes. The song of the Badger tantalized with promises, like the last warm breeze of autumn and the first warm breeze of spring; and he yearned for things he could not describe.

Plotonicus and Richard were apparently acquainted, but Richard was reluctant to tell Sebastian anything about the Badger. One day, Sebastian cornered Richard in the sitting room and demanded to know what was going on.

Plotonicus sent us several letters, explained Richard, over the past year. Luckily, I found them before you did, and put them to the fire. I’d hoped that the ‘Professor’ would get the message, that he isn’t welcome here, and just go away: for good.

But why? He knew father!

That was all a long time ago, said Richard, before the war, before Alexander was...yes, it was long ago.

But if he knew my father, Sebastian repeated, if they were friends...

A friendship I never condoned, Richard replied, nor did your mother. I think she would have forbidden your father from ever seeing the Badger again, if it wouldn’t have broken Alexander’s foolish heart. This is a day I’ve long feared. Whatever scheme the old charlatan has cooked up, you shall have no part in it.

I think that’s for me to decide! Sebastian said defiantly. He regretted the outburst right away. Richard was only trying to protect him. Even if Sebastian did not particularly want to be protected, he saw in Richard’s expression that he’d hurt his uncle deeply. I didn’t mean...it’s just that I like him. That’s all.

The Professor has some very strange ideas, Richard explained, he believes that Human beings are real!

Even Sebastian had to laugh at that notion. Every Animal knew that Humans were pure fantasy, to be found only in the Sacred Chronicles, church architecture, and old folk tales. "I don’t see the harm in that," Sebastian said.

He was Alexander’s tutor, at Briarstone University, Richard went on, but the Professor threw away his career, teaching that Humans were once real and walked among us. He said that all the old stories were evidence of that. Even after the university sacked him, he went on giving lectures and publishing absurd books about it, until no one would listen to him; quite tragic, actually. According to Alexander, Plotonicus was once a brilliant historian and scholar. So there you have it. What the old humbug wants now, I will not venture to guess. Money, probably.

If he was a friend of father’s, the least we can do is listen to what he has to say, Sebastian insisted. Where is the hurt in that?

Plotonicus can be very persuasive.

Sebastian said, Don’t worry. I’ll have you to help me, won’t I?

They did not have long to wait to learn the purpose behind the Badger’s visit. A few weeks after crashing his balloon in their rose garden, the Badger summoned them to the library, where he was going to make his announcement. It was a night of relentless down-pouring rain and howling winds.

The library was a homey, cozy room. Tall bookcases of dark stained wood stood against each wall, packed with books. Two windows looked out on the countryside. Plotonicus, pipe clenched between his teeth, stood warming himself in front of the hearth. I’ve gotten a fire started, hope you don’t mind, he said. The Badger had managed to kick up a good deal of soot, spilling it onto the carpet and all over his hands, which he wiped on his worn trousers.

Not at all, Richard lied. He went to the liquor cabinet and fixed drinks for them and made no complaint.

Sebastian raised his glass, Your very good health, Professor!

And Alexander’s memory, Plotonicus added, before downing the drink in a single gulp. Just the thing on a night like this!

Richard said briskly, Which brings us to the reason for your visit.

The Badger lit his pipe and exhaled prodigious clouds of smoke.

I have come for something, he announced, "some-one, actually."

Sebastian was having fun, despite his uncle. The drink was going to his head, as well. He said, And who would that be?

Plotonicus turned ‘round to face him.

"That would be you, Mr. Perriwinkle!"

Me? Whatever for?

I have in mind an expedition, the Badger said, and I want to bring you with me.

Rubbish! said Richard.

An expedition to...? said Sebastian.

The Outlands! the Badger replied.

Impossible! said Richard.

And why is that? said the Badger.

Because of the Great Forest, said Richard. Carrot Field and Vorland are entirely surrounded by the Great Forest, impenetrable woodland, countless leagues deep in every direction. It is impassable.

"Everyone believes it is, countered Sebastian. But no one has actually proven it to be so."

No Animal has ever gone beyond the Great Forest, Richard repeated. That is enough to convince me that it is true.

Is that right? Plotonicus said.

He turned to the hearth, above which on the mantle was the Jade Horn. Gingerly, he took it down and stood in the glow of the fire, admiring it.

Then how do you explain this? he said eagerly.

Just an old artifact, attached to an even older story, Richard said.

Really? There isn’t enough jadeite in all of Carrot Field to make the mouthpiece of this horn, let alone the whole thing!

That proves nothing! Richard insisted.

There is also the legend of the Mouse Quests, the Professor went on, a whole tribe of Mice who did not settle in Carrot Field, but journeyed on, through the Great Forest, into the wilderlands and beyond.

More fables! said Richard.

"And there’s your family legend."

Agamemnon Stoutburrow, Sebastian intoned.

He reached the Outlands, the Badger said, with the help of a Fox guide. After the Battle of 765.

You want to be the first to reach the Outlands, is that it? Sebastian asked, unable to contain his excitement at the idea. To be the first to go there and make a survey and return with a true record of it?

Plotonicus laughed, low and slow. I have a greater purpose than that, he said.

Don’t leave us in suspense! Sebastian said.

"Not all the old tales tell that Humans lived here, in what was once called Lavaliar. Some tell a different story: that the Humans lived only in the Outlands and our dealings with them ended when we left their lands, not vice versa. That would explain why there are no Human artifacts or ruins within Carrot Field."

The Badger let that statement hang in the air.

That tells us where to seek evidence for Human existence. They went north, the stories all say; and they built the city of Isliadorn, the golden city in the sea.

Absurd! Richard exclaimed, slamming down his tumbler. Isliadorn is a myth! Humans never existed! These are the very absurdities that ruined your career and made you an academic outcast!

"But if it were true, that would mean...," Sebastian started to say.

Plotonicus finished his sentence, That tale of Stoutburrow’s journey is true!

You’ve forgotten the Great Forest again, Richard said.

Plotonicus nodded and his eyes glimmered, lit from deep within by a secret. What if I told you...that I know a way through it?

Richard laughed and threw himself into a chair. He lifted a book from a stack on the floor and pretended to read, ignoring Plotonicus.

To make such claims, Sebastian said, you must have more evidence than that old horn, and an even older fairy tale.

Of course I have, said Plotonicus. His stare became penetrating and he trained it on Richard, who slowly lowered his book and met the Badger’s gaze. "Though some small-minded Animals have sought to discredit me in the past, I am above all other things a scientist."

Sebastian’s gaze fell on the Jade Horn, which Plotonicus still clutched protectively, as if he thought Richard might grab it out of his paws at any moment and fling it into the fire.

And you want to take me with you? said Sebastian.

It was Alexander’s dream as well, said the Badger, "not only mine. We would have gone together if...he had not enlisted. I am growing old, Sebastian. I have no time to waste. If it is to be done, it must be done now! And I have found a way to conquer the Great Forest. The Foxes! The Foxes had the answer all along! They have kept it hidden. Now they have shared their most sacred secret, with me. I have found a guide. The Great Forest is no longer an obstacle."

Plotonicus paused and took a deep, deep breath.

"I will live to see the Outlands! he said. Come with me, Sebastian! Do what your father could not. Do the impossible, with foolish old Plotonicus."

Richard made a skeptical grumbling sound, but did not look up from his book.

The Wild Foxes have a community in North Field, called Tod-Boro. Soon I will return to them. Learn for yourself what this secret is. And if you want to, join the expedition, all the way to the Outlands!

Sebastian said, Who is this Fox you speak of, your guide?

Brand Redtail. He is a Patroller, said the Professor, Fox-folk who guard the Wild Lands of the north from intruders. He is a great tracker.

Redtail? said Sebastian, Is he...?

Yes! A descendant of the very Leaf Redtail who was Agamemnon Stoutburrow’s guide. It is a good omen, I say.

Plotonicus paused. His eyes darted back and forth between Richard and Sebastian a few times. Come with me, he said. Meet Brand Redtail.

I’ve always wanted to see the Foxes! Sebastian said, his eyes brightening.

It seems to me, said Plotonicus, that you have reached a crossroads, Sebastian Perriwinkle, and the time has come for you to choose a direction. You can stay here, work for the government, and become a cog in the machinery; or you can take a chance, on old Plotonicus. A one in a million chance! But the chance your father would have taken.

"It’s hardly a decision you want to make without further thought, Richard interjected, actually standing between Plotonicus and Sebastian, and before you’ve even had your supper." The clock in the hall chimed at that moment; the magic of the Badger’s words seemed to evaporate into thin air.

Outside, the rain fell in a steady rhythm on Tumton Hollow. Carrot Field was suddenly very solid to Sebastian, a part of the real world, not the splendid dreams of adventure and discovery Plotonicus had been weaving around them. The light in Sebastian’s eyes faded a little.

He said to Richard, I’d hardly noticed the time. He turned to Plotonicus and said, I shall have to think this over.

But don’t wait too long, said the Badger, the wind is blowing northward, can you hear it? Northward. And I must follow soon. It is my destiny.

Then they had their supper, but Sebastian did not taste his food. They talked in the sitting room, but Sebastian did not hear a word of their conversation. He crept tiredly into his bed, but he did not sleep soundly. 

Tossing and turning, he dreamed all through the night. Sebastian saw his father fighting in the Long War, only it wasn’t the Long War, it was the battle of 765! His father had somehow become Agamemnon Stoutburrow, and Stoutburrow became Sebastian himself, only he was wandering the Great Forest with Professor Plotonicus and a Fox. Was it Leaf Redtail or Brand?

Then Sebastian lay awake in bed, trying to recall the songs and tales Plotonicus had filled his house with; the Badger had awakened something in Sebastian, and he knew he was changed. It was a long night of struggle; most of Sebastian wanted to go on lying in his warm bed, to live each day as it had been lived for many years, to not change anything at all about his life. But a small part of him, like a burning ember that will not die out, longed to leave it all behind, to see the world, to know what it meant to be truly afraid, and truly brave.

The dawn came. Sebastian did not move for a long while. The ember burned within him: the desire was too great. Lazy Manor could contain him no longer. Yes, the time for his adventure had arrived! At last, he rose from his bed. By the time he’d put on his slippers, Sebastian had already made up his mind. He would journey to Tod-Boro with the Professor. 

CHAPTER THREE

THE JOURNEY

I KNEW IT! SAID THE PROFESSOR, right before swallowing a boiled egg whole. I think there might be something of your father in you yet! Plotonicus downed a cup of tea in one gulp, washing down the egg. He was wide-awake and remarkably energetic despite his long evening of talk. Badgers are most active at night and require very few hours of sleep, until the winter months when they become lethargic. Then they curtail their activities as much as possible, going to bed early in the evening, even napping at midday if they can. But it was not winter yet, and Plotonicus was brimming with energy and enthusiasm.

Now that Sebastian had told Plotonicus his intentions, he found his own appetite waning. And there was the little matter of placating Uncle Richard. After all, Richard had acted as Sebastian’s guardian ever since the death of Sebastian’s mother. More important than that, Richard had been a true friend, and Sebastian did not relish disappointing him. But the ideas planted in his mind by Plotonicus had taken root: travel, the Wild Lands, an adventure! Just like a Perriwinkle ought to have. Like Stoutburrow, like Alexander.

Later that day, Sebastian and Richard walked to the Gold Coin for lunch, but their meal was an uncomfortably quiet one. Richard knew, from long experience, that Sebastian wasn’t telling him something. His uncle guessed what it was but hoped that he was wrong.

So lad, are you going to tell or not? Richard said at last.

Well, said Sebastian, I’ve decided to take the Professor up on his proposal.

Have you, now? said Richard, calmly. I had a feeling you would.

It’s what father would have done, isn’t it? said Sebastian.

I’m afraid so, said Richard, sighing.

That was the extent of their conversation until they had left the inn and walked all the way back to Lazy Manor. Listen lad, Richard said, when your father went off to join the war, it was all I could do to join up myself and try to protect him. Richard stopped and tapped his lame leg with his cane. "If this blasted wound hadn’t sent me home, he might...he might still be alive.

"I’ve done my level best to bring you up as a rational Animal. I don’t want to see you come to a bad end, as Alexander did. The ‘Professor’ is either a charlatan or a dangerous fool, mark my words! If anything were to happen to you...well, you’re the only real family I have left, that’s all."

Rarely did Richard ever speak so openly or generously of his private feelings. Sebastian was quite surprised and rather touched. I know. And I promise, I’ll use every precaution. But I’ve always dreamed of meeting Foxes. So little is known of them. And...

You want to hear more stories about your father, Richard interjected, I understand, that’s only natural.

They continued their walk under the changing leaves.

Our family history is a complicated business, said Richard, be careful that you don’t discover more than you really want to know. But all that is immaterial. If you’ve truly made up your mind, you know that I trust and support you. The Professor once had a reputation for brilliance. I’ll just have to hope that his ‘expedition’ will be a worthwhile endeavor.

The day had cleared away the previous night’s clouds, yet somehow the sight of the sun did not raise Sebastian’s spirits. He’d gotten what he was after, a blessing, of sorts. Now there was no turning back.

The rest of that week was taken up with preparation for the journey. Among his things Sebastian packed the Jade Horn, carefully wrapped in a velvet cloth; he did not know why he was bringing it with him, only that it felt important not to leave it behind; and also his copy of A Concise History of Carrot Field, a small book written by his father, Alexander Perriwinkle.

Professor Plotonicus proved to be a font of information on what a traveler should and should not carry on a journey such as this. There was a lot of running from shop to shop in the town, collecting various supplies for Sebastian: a rucksack, compass, canteen, travel cloak, cleated boots (for climbing), gum boots (for wet weather), a bed roll, insulated blanket, and a dozen other things Sebastian would not have thought to purchase without the old Badger’s guidance. Somehow, all of his necessities were fit neatly into a single backpack, a miracle of efficiency accomplished by the Professor.

At the crack of dawn that Sevenday, on a morning bearing the first hint of winter’s coming chill, Sebastian set out with Professor Plotonicus, scurrying to keep up with the Badger’s bounding steps, as he eagerly made his way along empty lanes to Victory Train Station. Sebastian looked back once, at Lazy Manor; it was too late to change his mind now.

Victory Station was a beautiful red brick structure, fitted everywhere with polished brass. The station house was a rotunda with a ceiling of glass. A tunnel-bridge connected the four wide landings, two on either side of the tracks. A little garden with benches stood at one end, and a fashionable restaurant on the other. The great black steam train was already waiting when the two arrived. To Sebastian’s surprise, Richard was waiting for them. Sebastian thought he’d left his uncle snoring in bed and that they had already said all their goodbyes.

Ah, Richard, said Plotonicus, seemingly oblivious to the other’s less-than-friendly expression, you’ve decided to see us off after all. Good show!

I’ve no more to say to you, said Richard, just see that you bring my nephew back safe and sound.

There’s nothing to fear! the Badger exclaimed.

Richard turned to Sebastian. I won’t try to talk you out of this again, but, Sebastian saw that Richard was carrying something: a flat wooden box, which he handed to his nephew. Sebastian opened the box: it contained a bronze medallion set in red velvet. For Conspicuous Bravery was imprinted on it.

Your father was awarded that in the Long War, said Richard. I’ve been waiting for the right time to pass it on to you. Go ahead: take it, lad. Perhaps it will bring you good luck.

Slowly, Sebastian shut the case and accepted it. Thank you.

We shall have to depend on the Perriwinkle courage, said Richard. It never shows itself at the start of things but there is always a moment, when things are at their darkest, when it comes to the fore. It was like that with your father, in the war.

The train whistle blew.

And now we must depart, said Plotonicus.

I’d better get on board, said Sebastian. Goodbye.

Richard said, For the time being.

Then Sebastian and Plotonicus boarded the train. A few moments later the machine clattered noisily out of the station. Sebastian looked out the window of his berth and saw the fleeting shape of Uncle Richard in the billowing clouds of steam.

Well, we’re on our way! said the Professor.

Sebastian stared out of his window at the hillocks of green that created the bumpy landscape of Carrot Field’s countryside; they were shaped almost like upturned funnels, with conical ribs running from top to bottom. The sky was autumnal silver-blue, hemmed in by shifting mountains of cold white clouds. Soon they would be walking under that sky, with only the stars and sun to guide them.

We shall pass the night at a nice little inn at the edge of the Northern Wilds, said Plotonicus, from there, we go on foot.

On foot! said Sebastian, I haven’t been on a walking tour since my university days.

You’ll do fine, said the Badger, and he looked fondly on his companion. I’m glad you decided to join me, glad for Alexander. He’d be proud to see you now.

I wish I could have known him, said Sebastian, Uncle Richard tells me stories, but—what about you? Was your father a scholar, as well?

The Badger let fly one of his thunderclap laughs.

My father was a banker. You can imagine his disappointment in me! Plotonicus reached into a deep pocket and removed a journal. The pages were cluttered with loose papers, and out of this disorganized jumble the Badger plucked a sepia toned photograph. This he handed to Sebastian.

It was a family portrait, all starched collars and blank stares. Plotonicus pointed out himself, an ungainly adolescent in a school uniform a size too small.

All through my boyhood I dreamed of going away, to university, finding a place where I would fit in, said the Badger, but fitting in didn’t make me happy. Believing in something did, even if I was alone in my beliefs.

Plotonicus took the photograph back and fished out another one.

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat. It was a picture he had never seen before, of his father, and Plotonicus. Alexander was very young in it. Sebastian reminded himself that Alexander had, in fact, been younger than himself when he died. He wanted desperately to possess the picture. Plotonicus smiled.

I don’t think Alexander agreed with my theories, said the Professor, but he was curious enough to find out for himself if there was any truth in them or not. That’s what made him different from other Animals. He was a seeker.

Sebastian offered the picture back to Plotonicus but the Badger demurred. Keep it, he said, a piece of family history, for your collection.

Sebastian opened his father’s History of Carrot Field, and slipped the photo inside its pages.

The Professor hummed as he filled and lit his pipe. Sebastian settled back into his seat and started to read, but his gaze drifted away from the page, out the window, at the miles of country slipping by, to the clattering rhythm of the train.

It was night when they arrived at last by train to Thorn Ridge, the last village on the very edge of the northern wilds. It was a very old village; to Sebastian’s eyes the unpaved streets and clusters of aging buildings looked mean and desolate in the dusk. But even as they made their way into town, Rabbits wearing long black coats and top hats, walking on stilts, were busy lighting the street lamps. The guttering lamplight cast upon the dirty buildings a veneer of gold, lending the narrow avenues a welcoming warmth.

Plotonicus guided Sebastian to the Copper Cockerel Inn. Amber light shone from the windows, drawing the weary travelers to the door, which stood slightly ajar. The exterior was whitewashed, with beams and trim of stained wood. From within, the sound of voices could be heard. Plotonicus threw open the door and they entered.

The common room was painted cheery yellow and old prints of hunting scenes hung crooked on inward-caving walls. The dark wooden bar was long and polished. The smell of beer and tobacco had seeped into the floor stones; even the fire from the fireplace was rich with it. The local Animals took no notice of them.

Plotonicus found them a seat on a bench near the hearth; not long after, they were being poured mugs of ale from a big jug by the Innkeeper, a burly Groundhog. Sebastian grew warm and cheery as he and the Professor talked about the journey to come. Later, food was brought to them.

All Rabbits are strict vegetarians by nature, but Badgers can eat as they please. Sebastian supped on a thick vegetable stew while Plotonicus feasted on steak with potatoes and onions. The Professor spoke of the beauty of the Wilds, the empty, open spaces and the quiet of solitude. Sebastian almost felt that he was there already, keeping pace with the Professor, marching deeper and deeper into the country until they came to Tod-Boro and the edge of the Great Forest, beyond which was all the wide world.

Late in the evening they went to their rooms, and early on the following day (a little too early, Sebastian thought) they set out again, this time on foot. They changed into their traveling clothes, which were thick, woolen and warm. Over their coats they draped hooded cloaks; Sebastian’s was bright blue, the Badger wore an old, battered thing that had once been earth-brown. As they tread the ground the Badger sang songs, his voice ringing clarion and strong in the autumn air.

Early in the day the sky clouded over and it rained. The companions sheltered in a clutch of trees still clinging to their changing leaves. Sebastian wondered how often it would rain. It reminded him that winter was indeed coming on,